


I Am Beautiful

by angelica_barnes



Series: When Is Enough Too Little? [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Falling In Love, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, realizing your own self-worth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: harry and louis aren't so in love anymore. they're really not.but it's really hard to figure out how to leave louis when harry still cares that he's okay.on the other hand, there's zayn.





	I Am Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "I Am Beautiful" by Candice Glover (acoustic version)

Louis stumbles through the door at half-past two. AM. Drunk.

Harry sighs and rushes over to help his wavering boyfriend, but Louis begins to shout profanity and throw teacups at the wall, including Harry’s favorite one with the little kitten inside, and Harry races towards his room and locks the door. He slides down onto the floor and pulls out his phone, dialing Zayn’s number and flinching at the increasingly louder crashes. 

Zayn answers, and it’s like the Angels have decided to smile down on him, even if he is in this shitty situation close to crying his heart out.

“Harry?”

“This is the fifth time,” Harry whispers, and he can hear Zayn’s angry growl on the other end. “He broke my kitten cup.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, but Harry can practically feel the fury radiating off him, even though Zayn is probably worlds away.

“Stay there,” Zayn suddenly says. “Don’t open the door for Louis. I’ll be there in two seconds, just open the window.”

Harry opens his mouth to protest but Zayn has already hung up, so Harry sighs and walks over to the window, using all his strength to push the jammed thing open. Then he lays down on the bed, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the muffled noises from outside the door.

Ten minutes later, Zayn shows up, knocking on the window to alert Harry he’s there and then slipping through the crack. Harry is too tired to move, and still crying heavily, so Zayn comes to him, settling down next to him on the bed and handing Harry a package.

Harry glances at Zayn before slowly unwrapping the bundle. Inside, there’s a blue cup with a kitten crawling up the side, to chase the ball of yarn that sits in the bottom of the bowl-shaped structure. Harry gasps, a smile dawning even through his tears, and Zayn wraps an arm around him.

“Thank you,” Harry whispers breathily, turning and throwing himself onto Zayn, hugging the boy tightly. “Thank you for everything.”

Zayn grins, pulling the boy closer to him and kissing his head; “Anything, Hazza.”

Harry smiles, feeling safe, and falls asleep against Zayn’s chest. He expects to wake up to nothing, but Zayn stays.

As Harry waves goodbye, shooing the boy out the window, he can’t help but compare;  _ Louis never stays. _

 

 

-

 

Harry is the one visiting this time, knocking on Zayn’s door as if he has any right to be here, which he doesn’t, except for the fact that there’s a bruise the size of a fist imprinted in his side because Louis might’ve missed the wall.

And even though he doesn’t deserve it, Zayn opens the door anyway, laughing, but his smile is wiped off his face when he sees the state that Harry is in. He immediately reaches forward and pulls the tearful boy into his arms, helping him walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. As soon as he’s not standing, Harry collapses and curls in on himself. He doesn’t even notice the other two boys, who have paused their video games and are now staring at the shivering mess that is him.

“Liam, Niall,” Zayn hisses, and the brunette looks at him, keeping a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, who is still staring with a horrified, scared look on his face. “Out, please. Sorry.”

Liam shakes his head. “Don’t be.”

Suddenly the blonde one speaks in a shocked voice, almost too quiet to hear; “Take care of him, yeah? He really doesn’t look okay.”

Zayn smiles sadly and ushers them out; “He’s not.”

Harry cries out when he feels hands coming down on him, and he bolts up and throws out a fist, which hits nothing. 

“Shhh, Hazza,” Zayn whispers, gently lowering Harry’s outstretched arm and reaching forward to help Harry out of his shirt, “shhh.”

Once Harry’s chest is bare, Zayn disappears for a minute before reappearing with medical supplies. Harry only sits silently and whimpers occasionally as Zayn bandages his arms and spreads antibiotics and ointment on the bruise, and helps Harry swallow two pills and a full glass of water. He kisses each of Harry’s scars too, lightly and lovingly, and by the end of it, Harry feels okay.

“Sweet dreams,” Zayn murmurs, kissing Harry’s head and covering him with a blanket. Harry gives him a weak smile, and Zayn gives him a soft one in return, before Zayn lifts Harry’s head and sits down, placing Harry’s head back down on his knee.

“Why am I using you as a pillow?” Harry asks sleepily, and Zayn begins playing with his curls to calm him.

“So if you wake up in the middle of the night, you’ll know I’m here without having to open your tired eyes.”

Harry begins to snore quietly, and though he’s exhausted, Zayn keeps himself awake the whole night, just in case Harry has a nightmare.

 

 

-

 

Harry sleeps in a coffee shop called Per Say when things between he and Louis get really bad. It’s the place where he and Louis met, and it always makes him feel a little bit better, even if he’s not so sure that meeting Louis was a good thing anymore.

He wakes up to the sound of chair legs screeching against the floor as someone sits down across from him. His head whips up, curls flying wildly, and he holds his hands up to try and defend himself from the blows that must be coming. But once he dares to peek, he’s met with the sight of Zayn, smiling softly and holding out a tea towards him. 

Harry reaches out with shaky hands to take the tea, which is somehow held in the replacement kitten cup that Zayn got him, and when he nearly drops it, Zayn’s hands cover his to steady them. Zayn’s hands are warm, Harry notices, and he smiles weakly to show he’s grateful for the gesture, before sipping from the cup carefully, through his chapped parted lips.

Zayn doesn’t remove his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the back of Harry’s own, to warm up the frigid icicles known as Harry’s fingers. Harry gasps in relief as the warm liquid splashes onto his tongue and trickles down his throat, flooding the parched drought that is his mouth. Harry lets out a delighted laugh at how good it tastes, warm and smooth like honey, because he hasn’t had a proper morning tea in  _ months _ .

“How’d you find me?” Harry asks quietly, voice still hoarse from dehydration, but Zayn hears him, even if he does have to lean forward a bit to do so. Once Harry’s done speaking, Zayn smiles and sits back down in his chair, holding out a hand for Harry to take, which he does, and Zayn covers Harry’s hand with his other one.

“I like knowing you’re okay,” Zayn says, keeping a low volume to respect Harry’s privacy and aching head. “So I pay attention to where you go when you’re hurt.”

Harry blushes, but he doesn’t slide his hand away, because Zayn’s hands are gentle and kind and really quite lovely. Instead, he curls his fingers around the parts of Zayn’s hands he can reach, and then they talk until Harry realizes that they can’t stay there forever, and that he needs to leave. 

They walk out together, and Harry is about to walk away when Zayn grabs his shoulder; “Wait.”

Harry turns around, for once completely unafraid of someone’s unexpected touch, to find Zayn holding out his own coat. “Take it.”

Harry shakes his head, “I can’t, Zayn. That jacket is really expensive -” but Zayn shoves the piece of clothing into his hands, refusing to leave until Harry is wrapped comfily in the fuzzy fabric. Harry shivers in pleasure, before wrapping his arms around Zayn and burying his face in Zayn’s neck; “Thank you.”

Zayn laughs, “Of course, Hazza. Let me walk you home.”

Harry lets him.

 

 

-

 

Harry is awoken by a clenched fist colliding with his jaw, and he grunts in pain and curls into a ball, arms shielding his head from the majority of the hits.

“Worthless!” Louis yells.

“Please,” Harry whimpers, but Louis apparently doesn’t hear him, or he doesn’t care. And Harry, more and more, is starting to believe it’s the second one.

He cries silently, taking the hits and punches and kicks, until one particularly hard knock in the head turns everything suddenly black, and he could fight it, but he’s so, so tired…

And giving up seems easier, which makes it much more appealing.

 

 

-

 

When Harry enters the world of the living again, he’s being cradled in someone’s arms and that someone’s tears are raining on his face. Harry, with much effort, manages to move his arm the tiniest bit, earning a relieved laugh from Zayn, who comes into view as Harry’s vision restores itself from the blurry mess he’d been staring through only a minute ago.

Harry leans into Zayn’s chest, clutching the man’s shirt, and Zayn shifts to support the curly-haired boy better.

“Where’s Louis?” Harry asks, and Zayn smiles, kissing his forehead.

“Gone, love.”

Harry sighs in relief and closes his eyes, relaxing into Zayn’s chest, and then he murmurs the truth, what he’s wanted all along but has never been able to say, “Take me home.”

Zayn tilts his head, “This is your bedroom, Haz.”

And Harry smiles, a dazzling array of unafraidness, “Home is with you, Zee.”

 

 

-

 

Harry blinks slowly, yawning and sitting up in Zayn’s bed. He stretches his arms above his head and sighs in satisfaction as his back cracks, and then he stands to go to bathroom when he hears Zayn’s voice outside. And Harry knows he shouldn’t, but he does anyway; he listens.

“Yes, Liam, he’s okay. Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

A silky laugh erupting from Zayn’s throat.

“Well, tell Niall that Harry is fine and that he does not need Nando’s right now, but thank you for the suggestion.”

A pause, one of gloriously scary silence.

“Yeah Liam, I do love him.”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat and he falls back onto the bed, staggering and tripping over his feet. He lands with a crash and yelp, and suddenly Zayn comes bursting in, rushing over to Harry and touching him gently; “Oh god, love. Are you alright?”

Harry looks at him in disbelief. “You love me?” He squeaks out, and Zayn’s eyes widen but then he laughs.

“Of course I do, Hazza,” he says, in that soft tone reserved only for Harry, and he brushes a few of Harry’s curls out of his face and behind his ear. “Very much.”

Harry smiles, and he feels so very free in that moment; “I love you too.”

Zayn grins and kisses his forehead; “I know you do.”

And then Zayn hands him the kitten cup full of tea and Harry squeals in delight, the happy sound of a child bursting from his lips, and Zayn smiles love drunkenly.


End file.
